


Intruder Alert

by CaptainLyssa



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family Bonding, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLyssa/pseuds/CaptainLyssa
Summary: One shot: Three intruders are discovered in the VIP quarters on deck two. The discovery of who that are leads to lasting change within Voyager’s crew.
Relationships: Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Intruder Alert

“Captain,” Tuvok stated calmly from his station on a day which was proving quiet for the Delta quadrant, “we have an intruder alert on Deck Two, section alpha three.”

“Yellow alert,” Janeway stood from her command chair. Exiting her ready room a few minutes earlier, eyes tired of reading the many and varied reports, Kathryn wanted to indulge in the guilty pleasure of speaking with another being. Her position as the Captain was lonely, especially when her presence wasn’t necessary on the bridge. Some days she prayed for anything to break the monotony of Starfleet protocol. It looked like this event might answer her prayers, as long as it didn’t destroy half the systems on her ship. “Who’s trespassing in the VIP quarter’s? That deck is off limits unless accessing the officers mess or lounge.”

“Sensors are detecting three life forms,” Harry offered uncomfortably from his station, his expression somewhat ill at ease. It seemed Ensign Kim wanted to be completely sure he understood the readings scrolling across his board before offering an opinion.

“I have a security detail converging on the location, Captain,” Tuvok reported, indicating his replacement should take over the Tactical station. “Permission to leave the bridge. I will intercept and apprehend the intruders for questioning.”

Sighing heavily, Kathryn couldn’t help but expect trouble. The space before them on the view screen indicated nothing unusual. Mr. Paris hadn’t reported any Stella phenomena in sensor range. This event occurred suddenly and unexpectedly. Indicating her security officer should wait, the Captain handed the bridge back to Chakotay and headed for the turbolift. At least this event gave her something to do.

“Harry, continue your analysis and report the moment you know how our visitors arrived on board,” the Captain ordered as she passed his console.

Approaching the door to the VIP quarters, Tuvok indicated the Captain should stand behind him and wait until his officers joined them. Keying in his override sequence, the electronic aperture opened silently. Phasers drawn, the security chief led the party into the room. What they found astounded them.

On the rug before the couch, a small child chased a toy which had rolled under the lounge. He looked to be about three years old with a shock of golden hair. Determined in his pursuit, the security team couldn’t see his face. At his side, and trying to aid in retrieving the article, a second and slightly older child made a growl of frustration. In profile her Klingon ridges were obvious, as were her bright blue eyes. She looked like a miniature version of their Chief Engineer with the Chief Navigators sparkling orbs. Finally, standing with one hand on her hip was the oldest child, obviously watching her younger siblings. The likeness between the girls was remarkable, except their eye and hair colouring.

“Harry,” scolded the oldest, who appeared to be around nine or ten, “come away from he lounge. If dad finds out you’ve taken his model…”

The middle child snickered, turning to look around at her sister. Startled, she noticed the four adults standing in the doorway and her clear blue eyes shone in recognition. The look on her face turned to joy as she jumped up, ignoring the Starfleet Security Officers with weapons drawn. Tuvok quickly re-holstered his phaser and indicated the rest of his team should do the same. 

“Aunt Kathy,” screeched the child, running towards the Captain and taking her legs hostage in a tight hug. “You never come to our quarters anymore.”

“I don’t think,” the older child stated evenly, her deeply brown eyes watching the adults warily, “this is our Aunt Kathy. Look, Catherine, the Captain’s hair is still red.”

Gazing up with an odd expression, the child called Catherine scrutinised Captain Janeway. Before she could say anything in answer to her older sibling, the youngest screamed in frustration, his toy remaining quite stuck. Then the cry of a baby rent the air.

“Crap, Harry, you’ve woken Owen. Mum’s not going to be happy,” the oldest child sighed.

“I heard that young lady,” B’Elanna’s voice came from the com badge on the senior child’s chest. “We’ve warned you before. One weeks privileges are revoked, and no whining to your father or I’ll make it two.”

Rolling her eyes, the child stated, “Yes, Ma’am,” in a tone exactly like that of Tom Paris. Turning she walked towards the inner bedroom door and suddenly disappeared.

“Kim to Cpt. Janeway,” Harry’s voice came through loud and clear, in comparison to the crackly transmission from B’Elanna. “One of the life signs has disappeared.”

“We are aware of that, Mr. Kim,” Janeway smirked, managing to relay her amusement through the com.

“Ensign, pleased scan the VIP quarters for a temporal anomaly,” Tuvok requested.

“I’m not detecting anything unusual,” Harry Kim responded. “Sir, the intruders, they wouldn’t be children would they?”

“Mr. Paris, I’d like you to come down here,” Janeway glanced at Tuvok and knew the same thought occurred to her security officer.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tom said, yet there was a slight questioning to his tone.

“Miral,” called Catherine, obviously frightened her older sibling had disappeared. It seemed to open her eyes to the situation. “Tuvok, why are you here?” Shrugging the child reached up and tapped Janeway’s com badge. “Daddy, you need to come home, NOW!”

“Captain,” questioned a confused helmsman.

“Make it on the double, Mr. Paris,” the Captain ordered.

Tuvok and Janeway exchanged knowing looks. Before they could say anything about the situation, Miral suddenly appeared back in the room holding an infant. Jiggling the child, she rolled her eyes at her younger sister.

“Dad’s on the bridge, Catherine. You know we don’t contact him unless it’s an emergency and this isn’t. Anyway, I need to change Owen,” she stated easily, “only theirs a wall in the middle of his room and the change tables gone. Mum’s going to lose her temper over this.”

Catherine once again reaching for Janeway’s com, Miral gave her a glare that said, _don’t you dare_. Little Harry gurgled something that sounded like spacial anomaly, before continuing to pry his toy from beneath the couch. At the same moment Harry Kim contacted the team to report the sensors detected yet another intruder and did the security team require further personnel.

“I believe we have the situation under control, Mr. Kim,” the Captain almost laughed. A flash of red behind her, Janeway indicated the security team should let Mr. Paris through and then disband. Holding his arm so her pilot stood beside her, she pointed to the oldest child and offered “Miral.” Tom’s reaction was priceless as his blue eyes drank in the girl and his jaw dropped. “Catherine,” Kathryn indicated the one still wrapped around her legs, the Captain’s hand protectively patting her back. “Harry,” the child trying, and failing to regain his toy, “and Owen.”

“What’s wrong with you people,” Miral once again rolled her eyes. “Dad, if you don’t help Harry get the Delta Flyer model from under the couch, you’ll have to make yet another one and you know Owen won’t go to sleep without his comfort object.”

Smiling, but still astonished, Tom Paris made his way to the lounge. His longer hands reached around the little guy and easily retrieved the toy. Grinning, the expression on the child’s face was one of trepidation.

“Naughty,” he stated, eyes down cast. Of all the children his Klingon ridges were the most subtle, so light as to be nonexistent. Reaching out, Tom rubbed a thumb over the child’s forehead in a comforting manner. Tears in his eyes, he wondered how this happened. He’d always dreamt of having his own family one day, but with his history, it seemed impossible.

“If you promise to be careful with it,” Tom’s tone took on sincerity and softness, “maybe you can play, gently, with it for a few minutes.”

“Love you, Daddy,” Harry ignored the toy in favour of offering his father a crushing hug.

The emotional maelstrom caused Tom to close his eyes. He wasn’t ready to become a parent, especially to four children. Yet, here in the Delta quadrant, as the last six months had proved, anything was possible. With the limpet still attached, Lt. Paris managed to climb to his feet. Directing his eyes toward the Captain, they held questions no one had any answers too.

Shrugging at Janeway’s obvious delight, Tom offered, “my three sisters have ten kids between them. I was often used as a babysitter before entering the academy.”

“I’ll take Harry,” Miral took three steps to stand by her father. “You can change Owen.”

“Noooo,” Harry’s chubby little hands tightened around his fathers’ neck. “My Daddy. Mummy look after baby.”

“Mum’s at work, silly,” Catherine offered, “and Miral won’t let me call her.”

“Hey, Harry,” Tom spoke softly into the child’s ear, “how about you be a big boy and help me replicate a dipper for your brother. Then you can help me change him.”

Snorting, Catherine gave up Janeway’s legs and came to stand beside her sister. Tom now stood in the middle of the four children, looking more and more like a deer in a spotlight. Much to his disquiet, the Captain and Tuvok continued to stand at the door with bemused expressions on their faces. Thomas Eugene Paris knew there would be no help from that quarter.

“Replicator,” Miral asked. “There hasn’t been enough organic matter to run them for years. But then again,” the child was obviously very intelligent and was finally putting all the facts together, “these quarters are the same as ours but different, undecorated.” Turning her eye firstly on her father, then the group of adults by the door, she made a decision. “What is the stardate?”

“48730,” Tuvok answered easily.

“Oh,” the child stated, her eyes wide. “Then you and mum aren’t even dating yet.” It was a statement, not a question. “That should make things awkward if we can’t get back to our own time.”

“Am I to assume, we are in your past?” Tuvok questioned.

“Yes, Sir,” Miral answered. It caused Tom to glance at her. She’d used the same tone he did. Noticing her father’s expression, the child rolled her eyes. “What do you expect, Dad. Look, Owen’s going to start howling if you don’t do something about his dipper. He hates being wet.”

Before he could think, Tom asked, “where’s your mother?” He, like the Captain and Tuvok didn’t need to ask who. With only one part Klingon on board and each child displaying some of their mother’s trates their maternal parentage was a given.

“She went down to engineering. The warp cores playing up again,” Miral answered. “Look, I can’t tell you any more, Temporal Prime Directive and all that.”

“Excuse me,” Tom’s tone stopped the girl dead in her tracts.

“Well, you are the Acting Captain, Dad, while Captain Janeway recovers from her latest injury,” Catherine stated. “Between you and Mum, we all learnt about the Prime Directive by the time we were old enough to talk.”

“Right,” a somewhat paler Tom Paris manage to pry the child from his chest, only to have him wrap his little hands around his leg. Taking the infant, he led his tribe to the replicator. In this time, only VIP quarters didn’t have strict rationing. “Computer, replicate a dipper, make that three, for a six month old. Oh, and baby wipes.”

“Don’t for get the cream, Dad,” Catherine supplied happily. “Mum won’t be happy if Owen’s rash comes back, now he’s getting his teeth.”

“Right,” Tom sighed. “Miral, please bring the…”

“Right,” Miral echoed her father’s tone. “Just because I’m the oldest…”

“Don’t sass me, young lady,” Tom couldn’t help the irritation entering his tone.

“Gee,” the girl crossed her arms over her chest in a moment reminiscent of B’Elanna when unimpressed, “at least I know you were always like this.”

A chuckle came from the still open doorway. The security officers had been dismissed, leaving Captain Janeway and Lt. Tuvok to witness the spectacle. They hadn’t counted on two factors. Firstly the rumour mill on _Voyager_ ran faster than the speed of light. Secondly, Harry had worked out the children were mixed Klingon/Human with the combined DNA signature of his two best friends. All of which culminated in a very angry Chief Engineering Officer barging between Janeway and Tuvok to see if she’d been told the truth.

“What in Kathless’s name is going on in here,” B’Elanna shouted.

Before she could get an answer, or even a good look, a three year old rocket launched himself towards his mother, babbling about being naughty and promising to leave Daddy’s toys alone. On his heals, his six year old sister vied for attention. Finally lifting her head, the oldest child shrugged her head while holding a tub of cream out to Tom Paris who was in the middle of changing a baby’s dipper.

“All done little man,” Tom cooed, ignoring the daggers he felt from the woman barely three meters away. To say there were anything more than Harry’s mutual friends was pushing it. Settling the child on his hip and handing him the model of a shuttle, Paris watched the tiny toy being chomped with a set of new teeth. “Welcome home, honey,” Paris delivered at his sardonic best.

Only the older girls suddenly looking around and removing any projectile within their mother’s reach saved Paris from B’Elanna’s sudden anger and embarrassment. Her humiliation was complete when Catherine frowned at her sister and stated, “I hope they keep all that kissy, bangy stuff until we go to bed.”

“Four kids, Torres,” Tom started to tease. He was upstaged by his daughter.

“Torres,” Miral snickered. “You haven’t called Mum Torres since before Catherine was born.” Mimicking her father’s tone perfectly, the girl stated, “come on, B’Elanna, we’ve been married five years and have two kids. Its not like anyone can mix up Lt. Paris with Lt. Comm. Paris. It’s important to me, that we all have the same name.”

“And I agreed to that,” B’Elanna faced a smaller version of herself, stunned.

Even Catherine nodded. The stalemate was broken by the Captain, who suggested in that tone which was really an order, that the Paris’s remain with the children until the event could be properly investigated. Both Tom and B’Elanna knew that meant until this situation could be reversed.

Once they were alone, B’Elanna eyed the man sitting on the floor playing with his children and stated to no one particularly, “we’re never going to live this one down.”

“Nope,” his blue eyes looked over the top of three heads to connect with B’Elanna’s. “But right now we have more than Voyager’s grape vine to consider.” The rebuke was subtly gentle.

“You mean we have to stay here,” Miral asked, frowning. “I know you’re our Mum and Dad, but you aren’t. I want to go home.”

“I know you do, Miral,” Tom stated quietly, his gaze intently on the child. “Until we can find a way to get you back to your own time, I’m afraid we’re all stuck with each other. I bet if we put our heads together, well work it out.”

“Maybe if I try the portal again,” she theorised. Standing, she paced over to the inner door leading to the apartments bedrooms. It simply slid open silently as it had done the half a dozen other times she’d tried since the family had been left alone. Discouraged, Miral plonked herself down on the couch beside her mother. “Do you ever think we’ll get back were we belong, Mum?”

“Harry’s working on finding away to return you to your own time,” B’Elanna soothed, reminded of her own childhood. Her parents had done nothing but fight. Taking in a shuddering breath, she decided, no matter how much Paris annoyed her, she’d keep her temper in check, for the children’s sake. It wasn’t their fault and something must have occurred between them. Placing her arm around the older girl sent an arrow straight to B’Elanna’s heart. Her own mother had never simply sat beside her and offered comfort. It wasn’t the Klingon way.

An hour later, Harry pulled on his father’s sleeve. His little tummy took the opportunity to growl menacingly. “Hungry, Leola soup,” he pleaded.

“Well, buddy,” Tom lamented, scratching the back of his neck, “looks like we’ll have to brave the mess, unless we can get Uncle Neelix to home deliver.”

“Really, Dad,” Miral once again looked at him with disappointment. “We always eat in the officers mess with the other Voyager families.”

“Other families,” questioned B’Elanna.

“Sure, you don’t think we’re the only kids on board,” Miral stated before realising how hard this Temporal Prime Directive thing was going to be.

“Well, if you kids want to brave the mess,” Tom teased, “who am I to stand in the way. B’Elanna?”

“Go wash your hands,” she ordered automatically, before wondering were that came from. Tom’s expression was one of amazement. However, the three eldest kids trouped off the the bathroom without question. Indicating Tom should hand the baby over, B’Elanna held the child to her chest. Until this moment, she ignored the youngest child, allowing Tom to do all the parenting. He seemed so good soothing the infant.

“Looks like you might be a natural at this mothering thing,” Tom joked, watching Torres rock Owen, speaking softly before laying a kiss on his faint ridges.

“It’s really easy, Paris,” B’Elanna’s voice started harsh but softened with the realisation of how true her words were, “I just do the exact opposite of what my parents did.”

“We might just have something in common, B’Elanna,” Tom had to remind himself to use her first name. The kids weren’t use to their parents calling themselves Paris and Torres and they might just walk in at any moment. Until they could get them back to where they belonged, Miral, Catherine, Harry and Owen were relying on them. Tom Paris promised himself he’d never let them down.

“What if,” B’Elanna didn’t need to say another word. Tom understood.

 _What if we can’t get them home?_ Somehow that thought didn’t bother Thomas Paris in the least. He’d cope. They’d cope. “We can’t think like that right now, B’Elanna,” he offered softly.

“What if I don’t want them to go back,” brown eyes locked onto blue. A world of hurt crossed those expressive orbs in a split second.

“If we’re really lucky,” Tom said gently, “they will be ours one day. Just think what their parents are feeling. I can only imagine the hurt and pain of coming home to find all your kids have disappeared.”

Nodding and holding the baby tightly, B’Elanna rose from the couch. As the older kids entered the main room, the family prepared to march across the hallway and into the public eye. Taking in a deep breath, Tom held out his hands. Automatically Harry took one while Catherine attached herself to the other side. Miral stood at her mother’s side, looking side long at her siblings. B’Elanna understood. Even at ten, she’d always hoped her mother would offer to hold her hand.

“Good Evening,” Neelix greeted the family as they walked through the door. “Take a seat and I’ll have your meal out in a moment.”

“Uncle Neelix,” three year old Harry pleaded with his best Paris expression, “please, Leola stew?”

“Well, now, young Master Paris, I might just be able to find something like that,” Neelix looked happy and astounded. “And will baby Paris be eating tonight.”

“I guess,” B’Elanna levelled a questioning glance at Miral, who’d sat down next to her mother. The similarity couldn’t be missed.

“Lumpy, please Neelix,” Miral requested, “and a little hard, or else Mum and Dad will be up all night trying to sooth his teeth.”

“Oh,” Neelix looked around. That little morsel hadn’t been missed by any of the other diners in the mess. “I have an old Talixian remedy for that.”

“Works a treat,” Miral smiled.

“Tastes horrible,” Catherine added, screwing up her face. “We all had to take it. I’ve got my big teeth now, Uncle Neelix, see.”

The child displayed her pearly whites. Not to be outdone by his sister, Harry climbed up onto his chair and attempted to demonstrate his milk teeth. Rolling his eyes, Tom took hold of the three year old and pulled him down into a sitting position. Harry’s lungs let out a piteous wail which drew the stares of every person in the room.

“Harry, we don’t climb on chairs,” Tom scolded easily. “If you want Uncle Neelix to see your teeth, you wait your turn.”

“That’s right,” Neelix took up the suggestion easily. Moving to the other side of the table, he made all the right nosies while admiring the child’s accomplishment. “Now I’d better go and get your dinner. I’m sure Mummy and Daddy are just as hungry.”

B’Elanna’s temper was on a fine wire. Her eyes flashed, daring anyone to say a word. She left soothing Neelix and the kids to Tom, who seemed to be doing a great job.

“Thanks, Neelix, we’d appreciate that,” he offered carefully.

Dinner went better than Tom and B’Elanna could have wished. Perhaps the Captain had warned the crew to stay clear or people naturally decided discretion was the better part of valour where their Chief Engineers famous temper was concerned. Whichever, the situation was about to resolved itself in the same manner as it started. Moving out of the mess hall at the conclusion of the meal, B’Elanna held Harry and Catherine’s hands, while Tom cradled the baby and had his other arm around Miral’s shoulders. One moment they were a family, the next the kids simply disappeared.

“What,” Tom looked down at his empty arms. No less be fret, B’Elanna felt an emptiness in her heart she’d not expected. Without a word between them, they headed for the turbolift. “Care for a drink?” Paris asked.

“Just one,” B’Elanna returned.

Twenty days later they were captured by the Vidiian’s. B’Elanna, separated into her human and Klingon parts, remembered the future that awaited her. It gave the Klingon strength to fight, to survive the ordeal. It gave the human side the opportunity to connect with Tom Paris in a way she never would have considered. He proved to be less of a Pig and more of friend.

 _Perhaps_ , Torres considered once her halves had been reunited, _there’s hope for a future together after all._

**Author's Note:**

> This story was conceived when I heard Robert McNeal described as “to much a family man” to play the womanising Tom Paris. Apparently his character was set for the first six episodes as they were already written when production began. Only after that did the Tom we all know an love emerge. This story could be one explanation for that.


End file.
